


God of Eternity

by AliceEddor



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aspect, Battle Royale - Freeform, Deathmatch, Denizens - Freeform, Gen, God Tier, God of Eternity, Homestuck - Freeform, Multi, OC's - Freeform, Violence, class
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceEddor/pseuds/AliceEddor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Denizens of the aspects have decided on a fairly drastic, but ultimately rewarding plan.</p><p>Becoming a God Tier was no easy task for any player, requiring the ultimate sacrifice to gain the ultimate reward. Up until this point, becoming a God Tier was the most decisive point in a players game, and some were more successful in their final form than others. The Denizens wished to respect that.</p><p>Pulling one living representative from every possible combination of class and aspects, all Denizens summoned them to Sakia and shall pit them against each other so that they can become more than a God Tier. More than perhaps even a Denizen, the God of Eternity. Only the most worthy were selected. Those who lived through their sessions, battled and were successful against their Denizen, and had nothing left to look forward to.</p><p>They players came from all types of sessions, and all were honourable and strong. The penalty for loss in this trial would be eternal drifting through dream bubbles, much like any other player who died. The winner would re-discover what it truly meant to be a God.</p><p>EDIT: I'm re-vamping the whole thing. This time I'll actually finish it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summoned

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Game of the Gods](https://archiveofourown.org/works/473542) by [PageofHopes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageofHopes/pseuds/PageofHopes). 



> This will be using one of every CANON class and aspect. Using headcanon classes would get far to confusing to me, seeing as I have enough trouble deciding on specifics for canon classes and aspects as it is.
> 
> Each character will have a name. Yes, that is 144 names. Don't worry, that'll get whittled down pretty quick.
> 
> *Edit* For purposes of not making it super obvious who will win, I have excluded Muse and Lord. They are exceptionally rare, and over-powered enough as it is.

She was the first to arrive, a young girl seated atop an enormous mountain on Skaia. She sat, legs dangling playfully, gazing out at the setting of what should have been a war between Derse and Prospit. In this case, there would still be a war, but the fight would be much more brutal. In a few minutes time, some of the most powerful forces would be gathering under her, and the scene would unfold.

Her name was Jody Beck, and she was the Rogue of Space that had apparently been selected for this battle. This would be her defining moment. Deep in the back of her mind, the voice of Echinda, all too familiar, had told her to come to Skaia. Had told her that all would be explained upon her arrival.

Being a Hero of Space, travelling to Skaia was no problem. It had been the exact Skaia in question that was the problem. Upon arrival at the Skaia in her own universe, she was greeted with the silence and stillness that proceeds a great war, watching the few remaining warriors stagger here and there, their purpose fulfilled and their reason depleted. No, that had been wrong said the voice. And she continued onwards, receiving disembodied direction from her goddess she had nearly killed. Once she had arrived on the particular Skaia designated her, one in a universe apparently untouched by the great war that should have played itself out here, Echidna spoke again. Her eyes glassed over as the goddess filled her mind with the desires of the Denizens. Each class and aspect would have one representative selected, only the best would be chosen, and from there one would be selected to be given the title of the God of Eternity.

All God Tiers would be represented, she said, save only the two rarest. All God Tiers would be pitted against each other in a battle of strength and cunning. Those who died would face the standard consequences, and would drift in and out of dream bubbles for the rest of time. The individual winning would be granted the title, offered a power far greater than any Lord or Muse, perhaps even any Denizen.

Echidna had claimed that players came from sessions of all kinds, successful, void, and null alike. Jody, as she re-gained her focus and ability, remembered she had of course come from a successful session, and in her mind, that made her far more powerful than the others could hope to be. She had won after all! Were it not for her competent breeding of the new universe, their team would have gotten nowhere fast. She was a Rogue, a Rogue of Space nonetheless, and it was her job to be as quick as possible, taking space from others to give to the needy. Perhaps the rules could be bent a bit in this case. Perhaps the needy was her. None were as adept at this brand of thievery as a Rogue.

She was certain without even checking that the other Space players would have arrived by now. None could travel as quickly as a Space player, they would certainly have the edge. It was likely also however that they would opt to leave her be, just as she was leaving them. Fighting between this aspect could cause a collapse of universal proportions, literally, and this early in the game it would be unwise to tinker so recklessly with the foundations of the universe. And so as she sat upon the mountain, gazing out at the distances she had to cover she wondered, how long it would take for one of them to find her. Just how long would it take for them to kill. She was ready of course, she knew what had to be done, and she was more than prepared to do it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t killed anything before, the Dersites in her session had been particularly rowdy.

She laid back on the mountain, pulling her feet up with her, and lacing her hands behind her head, watching the clouds. She frowned. These clouds didn’t have images in them, which was odd. They normally would, and in fact should. It did not occur to her that this was intentional. It did not occur to her that this was done to make certain players more useful than others. There was little that was done without a reason, and for all her good qualities, Jody was going to have to realize that she was no Seer, and she was no strategist. There were just certain things that could not be avoided.


	2. Negotiations

Upon her arrival on Skaia Hope Wise knew damn well that she was more than prepared to kill anyone who came in the way of her and the only timeline in which she lived. As the Seer of Time, she knew every possible timeline, every possible outcome, and possessed a gift that most wished they had and only few could handle. The long and the short of it was, there were 144 people in total, and most of them had more than one chance of winning this. Some had no chance, and they were not to be worried about. Hope, Hope only had one. One single chance in 371, which seemed like an oddly small number considering the amount of players. To meet this one timeline, she would have to ensure that all the pieces fell correctly into place, no matter where she was. The only real challenge came with keeping up with which timeline was the alpha, and whether she was caught in a doomed one or not. A task she had learned was especially simple, considering her enormous success in her our session.

After a quick calibration she determined that her first step was to find and ally herself with the Thief of Life, who was named Cheryl Garner. The interaction, according to her sight, would be a tricky one, and Hope would need to play her cards right. It was certainly lucky that the entire conversation was playing itself out in her mind as she shot like a bullet over uneven chess-patterned ground, past the sparse trees that were sprinkled over the landscape. The Thief would be in a bit of a jam, but Hope should not interfere. If she did, she would get herself killed right then and there. The earliest death possible for her. The Prince of Light and the Thief of Life would be sparing, and all her instincts (not to mention her prophetic vision) told her that was not a fight she wanted any part of.

After what felt like seconds but what she knew was minutes, she came across them, brawling right in the middle of a collapsed ruin. They were both equally matched, neither could quite get the advantage, every time the Prince seemed to be weakening the Thief made an slight miscalculation, the loss of life versus the loss of luck. The Prince broke the lock both their blades had been cause in hardly a second before his foot made hard contact with the side of her face, and the fell, eyes glassy with the shock of pain and the sudden tactic. She quickly but gracelessly managed to get to her feet and was swinging her blade around blindly, tears of pain blocking her vision. The Prince retreated, laughing smugly. Hope clearly needed to help this girl, but she resisted the urge.

“Fuck you Prince!” yelled Cheryl. “I’ll kill you I swear to God!” The Prince smirked at her. Hope sighed with resignation. There was a temper on this one. She knew that they had never met each other before, Cheryl had been attacked, and so was reacting however she thought best.

“Good luck with that sweetheart,” said the Prince in a sing-song tone.

“I will cut you!”

“Maybe. Once you can find me. I’ll see you around sweetheart it’s time for me to knock out the bigger, better opponents. I can’t be wasting my time on you.”

Hope watched as the Prince vanished, just as she knew he would. He was even more of an asshole in person. It was a shame that neither she, nor Cheryl, would be the one to finally end him.

With him gone Hope wandered over to Cheryl, who was cursing in the general vicinity of where the Prince vanished. Hope had to shut her up, she would attract so many unsavoury characters. Hope calmly reached out and tapped her on the shoulder, promptly ducking the swing of the blade that came after.

“Who the fuck-“

“Thief of Life, I have a deal to make with you,” Hope said calmly, but with authority. She had grown accustomed to this treatment during her session, as she had been the clear leader of the group. Cheryl stared suspiciously, of course she would not trust the Seer of Time immediately.

She lowered her sword. “What could you want with me? You’re the Seer of Time, eh? There’s probably a massive bounty on your head right now.”

“I just want to make a deal.”

“And why would I want to make a deal with you?”

“Because I can promise you victory.” Stupid, gullible, power-hungry girl.

Cheryl narrowed her eyes. “Right. Tell me.” Not quite there yet.

Hope smiled charmingly, being direct with the Thief was the best way to go about this, there would be no other way. “I can see every outcome, you now that right? You must. It’s obvious.”

“Damn straight, had a Seer in my group. Seer of Doom, but same general idea.”

“Exactly. There are 144 players in this fight, and I have seen 427 possible outcomes. Unfortunately, I have no chance at victory. You have 17. I’m in 15 of those, so if you want to win, I suggest you follow my instructions word for word. I can promise you that you will win this, and I will be no threat. In fact, I will be killed by a Bard of Void by the end of this all, if you chose to see me as far a I can go.” All of the information was false, a complete fabrication. But Cheryl would believe her, Hope knew she would. She had already accepted that there would be no way to win this without a frankly indecent amount of deception, something that bothered her very little.

“And why are you picking me? I’m sure there’s others what makes me different?”

“Simple. I want to see this to the end, or at least as close to the end that I can. Every other timeline predicts my death far too early for my liking. It is- not the best position to be in but I’m certain things could be much, much worse. I do not fear death Cheryl, in fact I am ready to embrace it.”

“Yeah, yeah they could be I suppose… Listen, Seer-“

“Hope.”

“Yeah Hope whatever, listen. Against my gut instinct, I’ll accept this. I’ll trust you. But at the first sign of any lies, any at all, you’re dead. Many, many levels of dead. You know I can kill, it’s not difficult for me. Alright?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	3. First Blood

Fortune chose not to be in the corner of Johnnie Stephens, the Page of Light, at the beginning of that day, or for the rest of the day. His summoning by the Denizen had double as a death sentence. What was truly unfortunate was that he did not think that he would need to face death so early on. He had barely begun to wrap his head around the consequences before the was viciously brought down.

Johnnie had always been confident in his abilities, a powerful Light player, the strongest in his session, and endlessly influential as the provider of luck and guidance. He had thought he was prepared for anything and everything. However, when faced with the Prince of Life and the Mage of Space, he quickly discovered there was very little he could do in certain situations, and all the luck in the world couldn’t save him from one whose power was to specifically destroy life. That accompanied with his meagre strife specibus of penkind, (which had been all he could find in the mad rush that was his entry into the game) did nothing against the blade kind of the Prince, not the horrible powers of the Mage. He had never been more frightened, not even when entering the game, not even when facing his Denizen, or the Dersite King.

The Mage hovered a few feet above him in the air, staring down at the broken, bloodied remains of what had once been a human. Amber Cox had no remorse, nor pity. She held him in place as her Prince slashed through his stomach, and she ensured that all working organs were successfully removed from his body with grim, but overall indifferent acceptance. From her position, she saw the organs rise, snap, and fall like sausages and other breakfast meats, while the Prince took the brunt of the blood.

For his part, Harold Fisher had always had a problem with death, which, he supposed, was why he was a Life players. He somewhat resented his title however, the Prince of Life was meant to destroy, not to preserve. Amber was the first person to show him that death, as he had always tried to make it, was not clean. As he sliced the head clean off the poor boy, she had wondered if the disembowelment had really been necessary, or if it was just something Amber did to amuse herself. He stood near the body, which fell, wiping blood off his face and nudging organs off his shoes.

“Which this dries it’s going to be hell to clean,” Harold muttered off-handedly, looking at his sword.

“Then clean it,” said Amber, landing beside him clean and proper as ever. “While it’s still wet, it won’t be for long.”

“You do it, you’ve got the space-y powers.” He held out the sword. She sighed and rolled her eyes, waving her hand over the blade. The blood rose off the metal gently, hovered for a moment, then vanished.

“Where did you send it?” Harold asked, finding himself seriously considering the possibility that she spilled yet more blood with, this was insane, blood.

She shrugged. “Not entirely sure. We’ll find a pool somewhere maybe, one with no body around. I’ll have sent it there.”

Harold looked down sadly at the body. “You’re completely insane, do you know that? All this? This wasn’t necessary.”

“Probably not.” He could feel her eyes on him. “But it sends a message. People will look down on me, the Mage of Space doesn’t seem like a powerful title, does it? I’m sending a message. I’m stronger than they think, and I have the Prince of Life on my side.”

Harold bit his tongue. He had no idea how he had been convinced to join her. They had just found each other wandering aimlessly, and an alliance was struck up, both of them well aware that there would be no winning without one. But as long as he stood, she would fall. There was no way around that, she was completely insane, and he would have to do her in at some point. Perhaps this was the best way. “We need to find the Seer of Time.”

“Why?”

“Whoever the Seer of Time is, they’ll help us. Hopefully. We need to know what we need to do to win, we need every possible outcome.”

‘We can’t both win, Harold.”

“I know but we can at least narrow the playing field a little.”

“Can’t we trust our own discretion? We’re two incredibly powerful players, whether the others realize it or not. If we work together, plan out our own routes, we’ll be unstoppable. Not to mention that every person in this contest will be after the Seer of Time. They will know how high the demand is.” Amber turned away, glancing into the distance. “They’ll have probably seen it themselves.”

“We still need to be careful. There are people out there, Witches and Thieves and other Princes who you may not consider a threat, but are. Remember? The Prince of Life holds nothing against the Thief. The Mage of Space,” he emphasized her title pointedly, “holds nothing against the Bard.”

They both knew he was right. Just because they were strong, and strong together, did not make them invincible. This was a battle that only those who were strong and clever could win, and Harold had to wonder if Amber was in full possession of her mental faculties. This would certainly prove either an immense advantage, or a huge disadvantage, but only time would tell really. This was true of so many things, only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 144: Johnnie Stephens, Page of Light. Succeeds in 0/371 timelines.


	4. Rhymers

“The Knight of Light?”

“Don’t laugh, yours is no better, Page of Rage.”

“But seriously though, Knight of Light? Did anyone take you seriously?”

The Mage of Rage watched the two other God Tiers, giggling to himself. His companions were having a heated argument about whose title sounded more stupid, and likely hadn’t even considered his yet. It was the most whimsical argument he had ever witness, and neither seemed to be taking themselves seriously in it, which was a lively change from the atmosphere they were wrapped it.

These three had had the good fortune to run into each other before anyone else, and after recognizing each other for what they were (the only players with rhyming titles) immediately formed an alliance. And here, as the sun went down on the first day, sitting around a small fire that Max, or Maxine Martinez the Knight, had somehow managed to conjure up, they bonded. The fire was a risky business, they all knew that, but they all also believed that they were strong enough to take care of themselves. They were gods after all, if they were strong enough to die for their abilities they were strong enough to fight for them.

“Yes, actually,” Max said defiantly, “they did. I knew exactly what i was doing the whole time, and they looked up to me. You, Jason, on the other hand, must have been the butt of many a joke.”

“As the Page, you would have been the… Provider of Rage, right Jason?” said the Mage quietly, digging into the ground with a stick. “Sorry but what good is that? Exactly?”

“Don’t you start too, Pat,” Jason Cummings warned, a smile on his face.

Patsy Bowers, or Pat, shrugged. “I’m just driven by rage man, not too complicated.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, just in case you snap,” Max cut in, winking.

“Yeah, okay.” Pat chuckled. “So, this could work, right? I mean, we’re not… Terribly special but we can make it work out right?”

“I have no doubts, if I did you’d know.” said Jason. “You two seem alright.”

Max stared into the fire and bit her lip. “As long as my luck holds out I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah, Light players and their luck,” Jason muttered, almost with annoyance. “And if you do run out?”

“We’ll see.”

“Comforting,” said Pat. “Um, has anyone died yet? Do ya think? I mean, how are we supposed to know?”

“No idea,” Jason said, rubbing his hands together and holding them out. “I think it’s safe to assume that-“

“There’s been one death,” Max said abruptly, like she had been dying to let this information out. “The Page of Light. One death in one day.”

A silence fell on the trio. Both Rage players came to the same understanding, a solemn comprehension of events passed. Maxine had gone surprisingly spacey earlier that day, walking into a tree and earning herself a nasty cut on her forehead that she hadn’t noticed until the blood was literally dripping into her eyes. Head wounds always bleed more she had said, stopping the blood with a torn piece of her cape. At the time, she shook it off. She claimed she was perfectly fine, nothing to worry about, and for a few hours was a little off-kilter, before making the camp. She had then come around completely, back to the energetic young woman Pat and Jason had met in the beginning of the day. Both of them had been curious, neither of them had asked. They both felt as thought they were going to be receiving the answer to the question both of them had held back.

Jason, having always been bad with silence, was the first to break the tension. “How do you know that?”

“This afternoon, I blanked,” Max said, and both boys nodded. “My Denizen told me, Knight, the Page of Light is dead.” She looked at Pat, then Jason. “But neither of you… Was I the only one that found out?”

She had been, and none of them knew why. The Denizen had contacted the Light player, and only the Light player. “Could it be possible…” said Pat nervously, “that only Max found out because she’s the same aspect?”

“How do you figure?” asked Jason.

“Well it was her Denizen right? She’s got business knowing if her fellow Light players are dying off I guess, by their logic.”

“But why would they do that?” asked Max.

“Maybe to keep up guessing?” Jason suggested. “They don’t want us to know exactly how many players are left, so that we don’t start to lose hope, but they do want us to know that the number’s dropping.”

“That’s harsh,” Max whispered.

“This whole thing is hash,” Jason said. “We got picked, now we just need to fight it out. Isn’t that the best we can do?”

“I suppose.”

“So then there’s one down,” said Pat. “One at least, if your guess is right.”

“Yeah, already. That’s- wow,” Jason said. Max nodded her agreement. The teasing atmosphere of earlier had quickly been replaced with a growing apprehension and worry, the awareness that at any moment someone would come for them. Pages were exceptionally strong, there was one in their group who could attest to that. A Page of Light gone already, whoever killed him knew what they were doing. All of them had hoped there would at least be a couple days before bloodshed but the universe clearly had other plans.

“Let’s make a deal,” said Pat. Max and Jason turned to him expectantly. If a Rage player dies, or another Light player, and we find out, we let the others know immediately. At least that way we can keep track of some of the deaths.”

“Deal,” said Max without hesitation.

Jason nodded his agreement. There could be no harm done from this little arrangement, and useless as it truly was. In fact, they all knew it was useless, but anything to keep them together really. That was all the wanted. The Rhymers, Jason called them, but only in his head. He liked that. And he liked Pat, and Max. He sincerely wished that he could have at least one of them at the end of all this, and if some of them beat him, he didn’t think he would be too upset about it.


	5. Seeing

Doris had always liked to watch the night, the way the starts would slowly appear like diamonds in the dark, otherwise empty sky. They reminded her of herself, the stars, little rays of pale yellow, the colour of Hope, against the deepest of blues, the colour of Void. They reminded her of herself an Nathaniel, the Seer of Hope and the Prince of Void. Yes, Doris had liked to watch the night, but now this same experience that she had loved filled her with an inexplicable sadness. It as an odd kind of sad, one of despair and a deeply-rooted longing than reminded her of her happiness. An odd melancholy that she almost enjoyed experiencing.

Her Prince, her nothing and everything, died in their session long after the king and queen were killed. On that fateful day they had faced underlings so large in numbers and in girth that they were quickly overwhelmed, and in a final act of heroism he was left behind. She have grieved for him then, and often after that, and it always left her with the odd melancholy, the one she wanted to leave behind but did not want to forget. She almost wished she could will him back into existence, the hope in her that gave her the title. But deep down, in her heart of hearts, she knew that wishing him back wasn’t possible for her, and she knew that it would be cruel to drag him back into the world of the living so unjustly. She would just have to accept his death.

She sighed to herself, pulling her knees up to her chest, adjusting her hood. The tree she had settled under provided adequate cover, a weeping willow type of plant, though clearly not the same species that could have been found on Earth. Through its branches she could see the stars in the Skaian night, brighter than the stars of any of the player planets or her home planet. She liked them, she really did, even though her heart said otherwise. With such a beautiful sight she drifted away in the depths of her mind, at least for a moment, before she was quietly interrupted.

“Are you Doris Erikson?” said a voice behind her. She turned sharply, eyes searching, jumping to her feet to see a young man about her height and age, wearing a teal robe exactly like her. “Yes, you are,” he said, taking step forward. She responded by stepping back, her abilities coming to life for the first time in what felt like decades, examining exactly what he was looking to do. He continued to speak. “Please do not be so hesitant Seer, we are one in the same.”

She had noticed. A Seer of Mind stood before her, that was the only explanation for the off-green suit, the shades that never quite matched in her eyes but somehow worked, in an odd way, and the symbol that had always looked like a small nebula to her. His garb matched hers to a T, in everything but colour and aspect, and she was suddenly terrified, but part of her questioned whether or not she really should be. She saw what he hoped he would be able to do, and that was solely for a chat. No doubt he knew that she saw that, and would not hurt her. Nevertheless, formalities must be respected and followed, for her sake.

“My name is Wim,” he said, holding his hand out.

Interesting name. “You know mind. I’m sure you just poked around up here,” she tapped a finger to her temple rather than accepting the handshake, “until you found out what it was you wanted, yes?”

Wim gave her a small, almost apologetic smile. “It’s hard to keep secrets from me.

“And me. And any Seer. What is it exactly that you want? I know you want to talk to me, but the purpose behind the conversation is escaping my vision.”

“I just want backup. I’m trying to round up a few choice people, people I want behind me when it comes down to the wire, and you’re one of them. The Seer go Hope, you can tell me the hopes and dreams of the people around me, if my guard ever drops I’ve got you.”

Doris shook her head slowly. “I’m not much in terms of protection, Wim. Seers are not strong fighters.”

“But Seers are also smarter than most, and know more than most. I want another Seer of my side Doris, and I would go to the Seer of Time but it’s very likely that they have a lot of rather aggressive requests on their hands. You, in my opinion, are the next best thing, if you’re not too offended.”

“Of course not. You know, it occurred to me as well that the Seer of Time would probably have their hands full.”

“Does that means you’ll come with me?”

“Of course. You now that and I know you’re not meaning to do me any harm. At least not immediately.”

He chuckled to himself. “Seers are always the easiest to talk to, aren’t they.”

Doris agreed, but only if they were talking to another Seer. The initial thought wasn’t a question, however. Seers, at least to other Seers, have rarely anything to hide. Even those with unlikely combinations, like Breath, could see into the lives of others, no matter how little. Doris knew this Wim knew this, and any other Seer they happened to come across would know this. Because of this, both players came to the realization that Seers may be some of the most dangerous players out there, whether the rest of the players realized this or not. Any two aligned could be devastating, and it was only a matter of time until they found out how devastating.


End file.
